


BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

by Bay_Ronan_Kellner



Series: Hunted [4]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Family, M/M, Pre-Slash, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bay_Ronan_Kellner/pseuds/Bay_Ronan_Kellner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie and Ian bond over pizza and fractions, but Don is still wary of his brother's new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

Charlie waited until the game was over and Don had headed back to his own apartment before he dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out the napkin that Ian had scribbled his number on. He had already memorized it, but he felt a weird need to double check himself.

He took a deep breath. His father was upstairs in his room, probably asleep. He wasn’t likely to come down and disturb Charlie during the call. All the same, Charlie walked out into the garage and took a seat on the beat up sofa. He didn’t even glance at his chalkboards as he dialed Ian on his cell.

Ian picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Ian. It’s me. Charlie.”

“Hey there, Professor. What’s up?”

Charlie grinned at the now-familiar greeting. “Ah, so I was watching the Dodgers game with Don tonight. And we got to talking. And, ah, you sort of came up.”

“Uh-huh. Should I be expecting to meet your brother with pistols at dawn?”

“I don’t think he’s going to challenge you to a duel, no. But he seems to have forgotten that I’m a grown man who doesn’t need his protection.”

There was a smile in Ian’s voice as he answered. “I don’t know about that. Besides, he’s a good man to have protecting you.”

Charlie flushed. Ian was probably remembering him cowering on the ground after the sniper shot at him. “I don’t need his protection when it comes to choosing who I date.”

“Well, I might be a departure from your norm.”

“True. I can say with confidence that you’re my first sniper.”

“Right. So cut your brother a bit of slack. Besides, you two are close—of course he’s going to want to look after you.”

“We—” Charlie fumbled for the right words. “We weren’t always close, Don and me. It’s only really since I’ve been consulting for the FBI.”

Ian was silent for a moment. “Interesting,” he said at last. “I pictured him as the over-protective big brother throughout your childhood.”

“He was, but—well, things were awkward when we were in school together.”

Ian kept quiet again, but in an expectant, tell-me-more way. Charlie pictured him lounging with that panther-like grace of his as he listened.

“I was pushed way ahead,” Charlie explained, “so we graduated high school the same year. And, you know, having his brainiac little brother around wasn’t Don’s idea of a great time.”

“But I’ll bet he defended you regardless.”

Charlie smiled a little, remembering. “Yeah. He might not have wanted me around—but I guess he didn’t want anyone abusing the annoying little nerd either.”

Ian chortled. “Well, you two seem okay now. Providing he’s okay with you dating another man.”

Charlie flushed again—his face felt even hotter this time. And his pulse was speeding up. He had to take another deep breath to make sure his words didn’t come out tangled and rushed. “He was fine with that. Just, ah, not so fine with you being that man. Not yet.”

“What does he think I’m going to do to you?”

“I’m not sure. But he doesn’t think you’re an ax murderer.”

“Huh. Good to know.”

“Ian, there’s something else you should know.” Charlie ran his free hand through his curls. “I don’t think I’m gay. I’ve been with women. I like women. I mean, maybe I might be bisexual—”

“Charlie, stop.”

He stopped.

“Do you want to go on this date with me?”

“Yes.” He swallowed as soon as he said the word, surprised at how certain he sounded.

“Then let’s just enjoy ourselves on this hiking trip, all right? No need to get hung up on labels.”

“Right. Yeah—yeah, you’re right.” He paused. Ian didn’t say anything, so he started up again. “Ah, do you have siblings?”

“No offense Professor, but my family’s kind of a sore spot.”

“Oh.” Charlie frowned. He didn’t know anything about Ian’s background, he realized—not even what ethnicity he was. Latino? Filipino? Some kind of Native American? “So sore that you can’t tell me anything about them? Not even if you have a brother or sister?”

“You’ll have to get me drunk some time if you want to find out.”

“Oh yeah? How about satiated instead?”

Oh God. Charlie’s face was on fire now. Had he really just said that? And why was he imagining Ian lying back against a pillow with his hands behind his head and this satisfied smirk on his face?

Ian chortled. “Well, well, Professor. You have high expectations for a first date.”

“Well, uh, we don’t know when we’ll have a chance for a second one.”

“Ah, I see. So you thought I was angling for a one night stand?”

“Um, more like a one-afternoon stand in some private spot along the trail.” He stopped, remembering that he’d never so much as kissed another guy. “I mean—I’m not saying exactly what we’d be doing. Just, um—you know.”

“I’m not sure I do. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Charlie almost panicked until he picked up on the teasing in Ian’s voice. “Bastard. I, uh, I’m not sure. But, you know. Something . . . intimate involving some, uh, shedding of clothes.”

That got Ian chortling again. “On the trail? You have a dirty, exhibitionist mind, Professor. I ought to put you over my knee.”

Charlie sputtered. “I said private—”

“Besides,” Ian continued, ignoring his objection, “I thought you weren’t going to be easy prey?”

“I—I was talking about what I thought your expectations were, remember?”

“No, you were talking about me all satiated and talkative.”

“Wait. Just wait. How do you see this date going? A platonic hike and then you drop me back home with a kiss on the cheek?”

“Only if you behave yourself. If not—”

“You are not putting me over your knee!”

Ian laughed. “All right. I suppose that should be consensual. But no—I don’t foresee more than a chaste kiss on the cheek.”

Charlie shook himself. “Ian, think about this. When are we going to see each other again? You live on the other side of the country.”

“And there’s no such thing as telephones or airplanes, right?”

“Are you—what are you suggesting? If you don’t want a one-night stand, then what do you want?”

“I want to get to know you, Professor. See if we have something worth pursuing. See if you’re the type of prey I’d like to capture and keep.”

“Keep?” Charlie gulped. “Right now I feel like the type of prey you toy with.”

“No.” Ian’s voice was deadly serious. “I’m not toying with you.”

“Long term—Ian, we’re very different people. I talk about math. A lot. All the time, almost.”

“I know.”

“It’s not your thing.”

“No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like to hear you talk about it.” He paused. “Don’t panic, Professor. I’m not proposing marriage. Like I said, I just want to get to know you. I think we can manage that despite the distance.”

“Maybe,” Charlie agreed. He was on his feet now, although he didn’t remember getting up off the couch. He was pacing too. He needed to bring this conversation back to familiar territory—back to something he could handle. “Why isn’t math your thing?”

The abrupt change of subject seemed to take Ian by surprise. “I’m more of an instinct guy.” He paused. “I’m not completely ignorant when it comes to math—although what I know, I know by rote.”

Charlie nodded. This he could handle—this was nice, safe territory. “I get that a lot. It’s probably the way you were taught in school.”

“Oh, it definitely was. I remember as a kid asking for an explanation of something—the teacher either didn’t know how to explain it or couldn’t be bothered.”

“Do you remember what you were asking about?”

“Uh, I do. But it’s a bit below your pay grade.”

“That’s okay. Tell me.”

He could almost hear Ian shrug. “I wanted to know why when you multiply fractions they get smaller instead of larger.” His voice was a little defensive. “Bear in mind this was back—oh, I don’t know. I was about fourteen, I guess.”

“Hey, that’s a good question. And the teacher should have tried to explain it.” He was tempted to ask Ian where he went to school, but decided to hold off. “If you were in my class, I’d have drawn a circle on the board to represent a pizza pie. Do you like New York pizza?”

“Of course. You can only get pale imitations in and around Quantico, though.”

“Same thing in LA. But while I was at Princeton, you could get the real thing. Anyway, picture a classic New York pizza—plain cheese—with eight slices. The circle, the whole pie, represents the whole number one, right?”

“And each slice would be 1/8 of that whole. Right.”

“Exactly. Now what happens if we’re stuck with that one pizza pie, but we need more slices—if we need to multiply the number of them? We have to make each slice smaller, right?”

“Right.”

“If I were to take each slice and cut it in half—which is the same as multiplying it by 1/2, even though we don’t usually think about it that way—we’d end up with sixteen slices. Now each slice would be 1/16 of the whole.”

“Okay. So each slice went from 1/8 of the pie to 1/16 of the pie. And that’s why fractions get smaller when you multiply them.”

“Yes. The slices can’t get larger if we need more of them, because we still only have that one whole pie. And the overall size of that pie isn’t going to change. The only way to get more slices is to make each individual slice smaller. Make sense?”

“Yeah. So all we did was divide each slice in half.”

“Right.”

Ian hesitated. “That means that multiplying by 1/2 is the same as dividing by 2. I know that, but it’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“Yeah, it can be a weird concept. But whether you multiply 1/8 by 1/2 or divide 1/8 by 2, you get the same thing: 1/16 or .0625 in decimal form. Just keep picturing that one pizza pie, and picture yourself making smaller and smaller slices in order to ‘multiply’ the number of them.”

“You’re not a bad teacher, Professor. But somehow I think this isn’t the kind of math you usually like to talk about.”

He grinned. “That’s not true. I like math at all levels.”

“Probably a good thing for our future chances. But I don’t mind you going over my head.”

“I don’t mind you going over my head either. You have, ah, a lot of highly specialized skills, Ian.”

“You want to hear about rifles and tracking and manhunts?”

Charlie couldn’t resist. “Manhunts, definitely. I think I need to learn everything I can about the way you hunt your prey.”

 

-oOo-

 

A phone call in the middle of the night was never a good thing. Don cringed as he rolled over and grabbed his cell phone, expecting to be ordered straight onto a case. “Eppes.”

“Don, it’s me.”

“Charlie? What’s wrong?” He sat up in bed. “Are you okay? Is Dad okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, we’re fine. I just—I needed to talk to you about something.”

Don glanced at his clock. “It’s three o’clock in the morning!”

“It is? Oh—I had no idea it was that late. Sorry. The thing is, I just got off the phone with Ian . . .”

Don collapsed back onto the bed and listened as Charlie rambled on about hiking plans, pistols at dawn, manhunts and New York style pizza. He let most of it wash over him—although, as he woke up a bit more, he had to admit that the pizza pie example was useful as a math tool. So that’s why fractions got smaller when you multiplied them.

Eventually, though, he interrupted his brother’s monologue. “All right, all right—Charlie, what exactly is the problem here?”

There was a pause on the other end. “I don’t want to come home with just a kiss on the cheek.”

“Oh yeah? Damn, Edgerton’s good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he’s got you climbing the walls already.”

Charlie answered with another pause. “So you think he is toying with me?”

Don sighed. “No. Not necessarily. I’m sure he’s legitimately into you. But neither of you should be thinking long term right now.”

“I agree. So something more is going to happen on this hiking trip.”

“Well, if it does, I don’t want to hear about it, okay? I’m good with just picturing that kiss on the cheek.”

Charlie laughed. “All right. Sorry for bothering you so late, Donny.”

“No problem, Chuck. Get some sleep.”

He clicked off and stared at his phone. After a moment’s consideration, he dialed Ian’s number.

“Edgerton.” The sniper’s voice had only a trace of sleep in it.

“It’s Eppes.”

“Ah.” There was a pause. “Did Charlie just call you?”

“Yeah. So I feel no guilt for waking you up.”

“Fair enough.”

“Are you toying with my brother?”

“No. Was that the answer you wanted to hear?”

Don snorted. “Good question. I’ll be honest, Edgerton. I’d rather he get you out of his system.”

“Why? What exactly do you have against me? Worried that I’m a sick bastard at heart?”

Now it was Don’s turn to hesitate. “No. I respect what you do—and I’m glad you’re so good at it, believe me. But I don’t think you’re good boyfriend material.”

“As Charlie would ask, what empirical evidence are you basing that on?”

“Come on, Ian. Are you going to think about him while you’re off on a manhunt? Are you going to remember to call while you’re away on a mission? Are you going to show up here often enough for dinner with the family?”

“I see. So this has nothing to do with the gay issue?”

“No. I can deal with that. And if this becomes a real thing between you two—well, my father will deal with it too. But he’s going to have all the same concerns that I do. You got an answer for them?”

“Fine.” Edgerton’s voice sounded half annoyed and half resigned. “I’m single-minded when I’m on duty. And I’m not used to the family thing. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”

“And you’d be willing to learn for Charlie’s sake?”

“I don’t know. As far as I’m concerned, that’s what Charlie and I are trying to figure out. Starting on our hike this Saturday.”

Don digested that. “Okay. When you two are done with that hike, show your face for dinner at my Dad’s house. Charlie’s house, I mean—he owns it now.”

“Charlie didn’t say anything about coming out to his Dad, Eppes. He doesn’t even know if there’s a closet he should be coming out of yet.”

“You don’t have to say you were just on a date. We bring friends and co-workers home all the time, don’t worry. Hell, I’ll even round up some other people so you’re not on the spot.”

“You’re not going to ask Charlie about this first?”

“He’ll agree. You in?”

“If Charlie really does agree, without you twisting his arm, then yes.”

“I don’t twist my brother’s arm."

“Uh-huh. Night, Eppes. I’ll see you on Saturday.”


End file.
